


smokin' that danger girl

by barelyprolific



Series: rainy day women [1]
Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Bonding with Drugs, Gen, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 15:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barelyprolific/pseuds/barelyprolific
Summary: “All we need is some weed and a laid back beat", or, the show isn't giving me the Mel and Macy content I deserve.





	smokin' that danger girl

Despite the kitchen light that glowed from the window, the house seemed empty when Macy got home that night. Maggie was out being socially vivacious, no doubt, and Mel… Would probably tell Macy it was none of her business. Mouth twisting downward slightly, Macy slumped her shoulders out of her jacket. Years of ingrained behavior had her hanging it up, but for once she didn't straighten it before slipping out of her shoes.

“Suck it up, Macy.” The rush from her earlier moment of empowerment had faded. Maybe she should text Maggie. Being out with a bunch of younger girls she didn't know would only be extremely uncomfortable.

Digging her phone out of her purse, Macy pulled up her texts. She scrolled past Maggie's messages, pausing at Galvin's name. He had been willing to meet with her for coffee before, with no mention of Summer. And he'd been so nice again, without the stiffness that his relationship with her had brought. Maybe…

“ _Carajo_!” The shout came from upstairs, made Macy jump, drop her phone. It clattered to the floor, and Macy's fingers shook slightly when she bent to pick it up.

“Mel?” She called cautiously, going to the foot of the stairs, her hand on the railing. Biting her bottom lip, Macy waited for a response.

This time, in English, much quieter but still audible: “Fuck.” Then the sounds of the bed squeaking, like Mel was getting off if it quickly. Jaw clenching, Macy ascended the stairs, going straight to Mel's room and pushing open the door again.

“Are you seriously sneaking around to do magic aga--oh.” Standing at her dresser, Mel wasn't trying to hide any magical items at all. “Is that _marijuana_?”

As soon as being stunned wore off, Mel was narrowing her eyes at Macy, mouth settling into a familiar scowl. “Seriously? That's how you come in here? No knock and accusatory?”

Macy's mouth opened, closed and thinned, arms crossing over her chest. “You have a history.”

“Yeah. So does Maggie. Would you burst in to her room like that?” Mel set down the jar, putting her hands on her hips and jutting her chin out, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Well, no,” Macy admitted, dropping her arms, “but…”

“But Maggie's nice to you, right?” Mel snorted, turned away and picked up the jar again, a thin orange package that Macy hadn't noticed was also on the dresser top. Snatching the hoodie off her bed, Mel moved to brush past Macy. “Good night.”

“Wait.” Macy caught her wrist. “I'm sorry.” Letting go, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Um. I didn't know you smoked marijuana.”

“I don't,” Mel said, and then glanced at the jar in her hand, rolled her eyes. “Okay, I do. But it isn't as much as I used to. Anyway, given the Mom Bong, are you really that shocked?” Mel shrugged, and her dark eyes went bright. Macy took a wary step back. “Actually, Mom and I got stoned together, a couple of times. Once I was over twenty-one.”

“Oh. That's.” Marisol Vera was nothing like the mother Macy used to imagine having. She cleared her throat. Mel laughed.

“I'm just messing with you. Payback for barging in here. Mom was cool with me smoking, though, when I was old enough. She understood.”

“I've never…” Macy wasn't sure what to say. Mel rolled her eyes again, and Macy frowned.

“Shocker.” Mel glanced at the jar in her hand again, then up at Macy, then back at her bed. Quirked a brow. “Want to? You gotta stop calling it marijuana, though. Nobody does that.”

Macy's eyes wide, she watched Mel move back over to her bed, dropping the hoodie once more. She threw herself down on it, patted the space next to her.

_Inviting Macy in._

“Um.” Macy glanced down at her outfit, then at Mel's comfortable sweats and large Hilltowne University t-shirt. “Let me change?”

Mel laughed again, but nodded. “Sure. Get comfortable.”

Macy nodded, backed out of the room slowly. A small grin curved her mouth, and she bounced on her heels, once, before heading down the hall to her room.

* * *

Mel watched Macy go, faint smile lingering on her face for a few more seconds before fading. She picked up her jar of weed, fished her grinder out from under her pillow. In her haste to storm out, she’d almost forgotten it, and it made rolling joints so much easier. This was better. Maybe. She wasn’t sure how getting stoned with Macy was going to go. It was easier to be around her with Maggie there. Mel knew the two of them had gotten close, _rápido_ , and Maggie was constantly nagging at Mel to treat Macy like a sister.

She didn’t get how hard it was, but then again, it was Maggie. The only point of view that really mattered to her was Maggie’s, and in Maggie’s eyes, she had a shiny new sister that was better than the old one she’d had.

“ _Lo que sea_ ,” Mel muttered. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she pulled open spotify and thumbed through to her 420 playlist, hit shuffle. One of the few good changes losing Niko had had on her life--she might have made it when she was twenty, but it was still an awesome mix. The next step was to actually roll the joint, which was what Macy had interrupted Mel trying to do. Mel was still struggling with it when Macy appeared in the doorway again, her hair pulled back, dressed in pajamas that looked soft, covered in what appeared to be small green and blue dots.

“You look like the cover of a Macy’s catalog,” Mel said, and then snickered to herself. “Ha. _Macy’s_.”

Unimpressed, Macy arched on delicate eyebrow and pointedly sniffed the air. “Have you been smoking already?”

“Ugh, no.” Mel held up her third ripped paper since she’d renewed her endeavors. “I’m still trying to roll a freakin’ j. I used to be good at it.”

“What changed?” Macy moved cautiously, like she was afraid Mel was going to snap at her. Mel scowled, directing the expression to the fresh flimsy sheet of paper she was sprinkling weed into, on top of a textbook she was going to need to sell back, now that she’d dropped out. She didn’t say anything until Macy’s weight had settled on the bed next to her, her legs crossed, facing Mel.

“I dated a cop for several years,” Mel said, glancing up at her, expression smooth once more. “Once Niko and I got serious, I gave it up. I didn’t want my smoking to accidentally get her in trouble one day.” Mel gave Macy a crooked, bitter smile. “You know, it’s funny. To the rest of the world, Niko and I never met, but there’s still so much of my life that knowing her had an effect on.”

“I didn’t really know her that well,” Macy said, soft. “But it seemed like she loved you a lot.”

“She was my best friend.” Mel sniffed, then swore as the paper ripped again. “Ugh, _maldición_.”

Macy laughed a little. “Do you usually swear in Spanish?”

Surprised, Mel glanced up at Macy. Her mouth quirked up again, corners twitching. “It’s a habit left over from when I was a kid. White teachers usually had no idea what I was saying if I said it in Spanish. I said so much bad stuff, especially to Mr. Pratt.”

“Who was Mr. Pratt?” Macy watched Mel reach for another paper, put a hand on her arm to stop her. “Is all you’re doing trying to roll the mari--jane?” Mel nodded, corners of her eyes crinkling, “Into the paper?”

“Mr. Pratt was my fifth grade teacher, and believe me when I say, he lived up to his name.” Mel nodded decisively, the messy bun at the top of her head wobbling slightly. “And, yeah. But I’m out of practice.” Macy held out her hands, and after a second, Mel gave her the book with everything on it. “Go for it.”

Macy hummed, studying everything in front of her for a few seconds. Then, fingers moving quickly, she somehow managed to roll a fat, perfectly packed joint. Mel narrowed her eyes.

“How are you perfect at everything?” she demanded, picking up the package of papers and ripping off part of the cover. Snatching the joint from Macy, she dug a little of the weed out of one end, inserting the crutch, and then rolled the other end into a tip. She handed it back to Macy, along with a lighter. Macy took it, hesitantly.

“I’m not…” She began, and then stopped. “Maybe it’s because I bake. I’m used to having to roll messy things up tightly in dough?”

“Yeah, okay.” Mel shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Put the end with the cardboard to your lips and light the pointed tip.” She got up on her knees, watching as Macy followed her instructions. “Inhale slowly,” Mel continued, “and don’t inhale too much for your first hit. Try and get it deep into your lungs, and hold it in--” She was interrupted by Macy bursting into a cough that shook her shoulders. Eyes watering, she held the joint out for Mel. “I said slowly, and small hits!”

Once Macy’s cough had settled, she grinned at Mel, although with her red cheeks and watery eyes it looked more like a grimace. “Guess I’m not perfect at everything.”

Mel grinned. “Guess not.” She took a slow hit, deeper and longer than she’d instructed Macy, and held it in until her own eyes watered before letting it out--right in Macy’s face. A dick move, and Macy recoiled.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Mel laughed. “Sorry, I just--consider it an initiation. I did the same thing to Maggie the first time I got her high.”

Macy wrinkled her nose, snatched the joint back. Her next hit went more smoothly. When she went to let it out, she tried to aim at Mel’s face, but Mel saw it coming and ducked, laughing. She hid her face in a pillow she’d tugged into her laugh, shaking her head.

“Maggie did the exact same thing,” she wheezed. “ _Exactamente lo mismo_.” Sitting up again, she wiped her eyes and took the joint back. For a few minutes, they just passed the joint back in for in silence. Mel was starting to feel a fuzziness in her chest, like the edges of her body were warm and soft, and she sighed, closing her eyes and tipping her head back for a moment. “How are you feeling?” She cracked an eye to look at Macy.

“What song is this?” Macy asked, instead of answering the question. “It’s--it sounds amazing. The guitar riff in the background is so subtle, but it really makes the whole thing.”

“Okay.” Mel’s eyebrows went up and she looked Macy over. “You’re having one of those highs. I can work with that.” She put out the joint, too small to smoke, and nudged Macy’s shoulder. “Roll another one, and I’ll play you something really good.”

“Alright,” Macy said. “Um, can we get something to eat, too? I’m starving.”

“Pizza okay?” Mel already had the app open. “The usual.”

“Mm, yeah.” Macy hummed. Mel glanced over to find her brow furrowed as she rolled the joint. She’d already torn off something for the crutch. No surprise that she was a fast learner. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Mel finished the order and then pulled up spotify again. She had just the song in mind to play for Macy.

“Why don’t you like me?”

Pausing, Mel raised her head to look at Macy again. “What?”

“You’re nice to me when Maggie’s around--and, like, right now. But you obviously don’t like me.”

“What are we, middle schoolers? You don’t like me either.”

“Yeah, but.” Macy shook her head. “You didn’t like me first.”

“You showed up at my doorstep announcing you thought you were my sister, just a couple of months after my mom had died. I’m sorry if I didn’t jump for joy.”

“Maggie did.”

“Yeah, well, Maggie’s always preferred other people to me,” Mel snapped. “Finding out she actually did have another sister was probably a dream come true for her.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Which made finding out about you even better.”

Macy’s eyes were wide, and she set the joint down. “Mel,” she began, reaching her hand out. Mel jerked her shoulder away.

“Don’t,” she said. “Look, I’m used to it. It’s just that it was never someone Maggie was actually related to that she was treating like a better sister, before.”

“I don’t think she thinks I’m better than you…”

“She does. And you do too.” Mel shrugged. “Hell, maybe you’re right. As of right now, I’m a girlfriendless, bartending dropout who just started smoking weed again. But neither of you get it.” Taking a deep breath, Mel reached over and snagged the joint. “Maggie, she still resents me for being right about Mom’s death, and she still won’t admit she pushed me away just as much as I shut her out. She just...never wants to talk about things like that. And you, you’re here because you want to find out why Mom gave you up, but you didn’t know her, and it’s like solving her murder is secondary to you. Which I get. A part of you is probably still pissed she gave you up, even knowing what you know now--”

“--Well, not _pissed_ , per se--”

“Between that, and Maggie obviously preferring you and taking your side, it’s like I’m not really here, you know? And that was fine when I had Niko, but now…” Mel shrugged. “Maggie only seems to spend time with me anymore when it’s got to do with magic. She’s got the cool new big sis, and you’ve already got the perfect little sister…”

Macy stared at Mel, watching her casually light up the joint as though she hadn’t just poured her heart out.

“Mel, I am so, so sorry. I had no idea--”

“I know,” Mel interjected. “And I don’t want you saying anything to Maggie.” She took another hit before passing the joint back to Macy.

“We agreed on no more secrets.”

“This isn’t a secret. Maggie’s an empath. She knows how I feel.”

The thought hadn’t occured to Macy, and she quieted. The silence that settled over them as she took a hit was awkward. Mel filled it by hitting play again, taking the joint back when Macy offered it.

“Maybe she doesn’t know how to talk to you about it,” Macy finally said. “You’re kind of intimidating, you know. I can’t imagine it was easy growing up with you as a big sister. You’ve got such a strong personality, and you’re so outgoing and opinionated. You know what you believe in, you’re so sure of it, and you fight for it… Maybe Maggie feels like she’s in your shadow.”

Mel snorted. “Let’s leave the psychoanalysis for the psych major, okay, Mace?”

“I think I would have felt like I was in your shadow, if I had grown up with you. And I’m older.”

Falling quiet, Mel studied her for a few seconds. “Yeah, well, you would have been that incredibly annoying and perfect older sister that made everything I did seem lame, so don’t bet on it.”

Macy smiled a little. Without Mel having to say anything, she began to roll another joint. Mel took one last hit and stubbed out the one they’d been smoking.

“Maybe growing up with sisters like you and Maggie would have made me less socially awkward,” Macy said, as lightly as she could. “I might not have…” She trailed off, shook her head. Mel sat up a little.

“Might not have what? Pushed Galvin away?” She shook her head too. “No way, _hermana_. You’re just shy. And this Summer chick, while incredibly gorgeous and smart, is just a temporary setback.”

Another weak smile. “I didn’t tell Maggie, but, uh. At Galvin’s birthday party, she told me I needed to back off. She was actually, uh, kind of really rude.” She handed Mel the fresh joint, watching her light up.

“Far be it from me to villainize another woman, especially a woman of color, but she sounds like an asshole.”

Macy let out a startled laugh. “Melanie!”

“Look, if she’s giving you those kinds of speeches, then she’s awful! Plain and simple. She clearly feels insecure in her relationship with Galvin and threatened by you, so she’s being horrible. Which is really messed up of her, but it’s also really good news for you.”

“What? Why?” Macy’s face scrunched up in confusion as she took the joint back.

“Wow.” Mel laughed, “You are really bad at this. Look, if Summer feels threatened by you, it’s because she knows that Galvin still has feelings for you. And you clearly are still way into him.”

“That’s not--I’m not--he has a mark warning me away! The psychic--” Macy faltered.

“The psychic what?”

“The psychic said Galvin wasn’t for me.”

Mel snorted. “The psychic also said you have darkness in you. With all due respect to Yoruban spirituality, I say _mierda_. We forge our own destinies.”

“Mel, we’re the Charmed Ones. You know that’s literally not true.”

Mel sighed. “Okay, fine, so some things are meant to be. All I’m saying is, there’s obviously a connection between you and Galvin. You were drawn to him for a reason.”

“I’ve never felt like this about someone before,” Macy confessed, quiet and small.

“You know, Niko was engaged to another woman when I met her.” Mel nudged her shoulder with Macy’s. “I’m just saying… Don’t give up. And don’t listen to people who try and tell you that you’re not good.”

“Thanks.” Macy took another hit, let it out slowly, with a soft cough. “My mouth is really dry.”

Mel pursed her lips. “C’mon,” she said, grabbing the papers and the lighter, the jar of weed. “Grab the grinder. My mouth’s dry too, and the pizza should be here soon anyway.”

* * *

The kitchen light glowed in the window, which was slightly cracked. Through it, Maggie could hear music and laughter. She frowned slightly as she fumbled in her rain jacket for her keys. Did Mel or Macy have friends over?

Who was she kidding? Neither of them had friends that weren't her. She finally found her keys, unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The pugnent smell of pot greeted her. Okay, so no friends. Mel was getting stoned and probably watching something stupid on Netflix. Maggie rolled her eyes. A hit or two didn't sound so bad, though, after a long shift. She headed towards the kitchen.

“Honestly, Mel, you are such a post-breakup cliche sometimes…” Maggie froze in the doorway, eyes widening.

In front of her was the most confusing scene Margarita Emelia Vera had ever witnessed. Macy was in her pajamas and an apron, leaning over the counter by the stove, next to a bowl of cookie dough, picking onions off of a slice of pizza. Mel was sitting down by her feet, legs stretched out, taking a hit. She finished, holding her breath as she tapped Macy on the leg and passed it up to her, taking the slice of pizza in exchange. It took them both a second to realize that Maggie was standing there.

“Maggie!” Mel finally blurted out, opening her arms wide and grinning. Apparently, this was hilarious, because Macy started laughing hysterically. “We got veggie pizza with vegan cheese for you!” She gestured to the pizza boxes on the other counter. “Wait. You were at work? Laaaame.”

“I got called in.”

“That sucks,” Macy said, voice strangled as she tried to hold in a hit. “Like, Hoover.”

“President or vacuum?” Mel asked, tugging on Macy's apron to get the joint back.

“Both.”

This sent her sisters in to peals of laughter again. Maggie settled her hands on her hips, shook her head. “I am too sober for this.”

“Boo,” Mel hissed, thumb pointed down and wagging it. “Here.” She tried to offer Maggie the joint. Maggie shook her head again, grinning, and took it.

“One hit, and then I'm gonna change. When I come back I'm going hard on that pizza.”

“ _So hard_.” Macy struggled to keep a straight face. Mel didn't even bother, shoulders shaking with laughter as she hid her face against Macy's knee. Macy's hand slipped down to pat the top of her head.

“Oookay.” Maggie held up the joint. “I'm taking this with me, since you two have a massive head start.”

“What? No!” Mel reached out, and Maggie took a step back.

“Yep.” She popped the 'p’. “Be right back. Roll another one while I'm gone!” With a giggle, she ran towards the stairs.

“Macy is a joint rolling genius!” Mel called after her.

“I am!” Macy agreed, just as loudly.

“So prove it,” Maggie called back, grinning so widely her cheeks hurt, paused at the top of the stairs to take another hit. “Nerds!” Her sisters’ protests ringing in her ears, Maggie went to go change.

* * *

In the morning, Harry let himself in with an annoyingly cheerful whistle, nearly walked passed the couch completely, and all three sisters cuddled up together, asleep under a faded quilt. On one of the end tables, the last of Mel's weed was broken up in the lid of her little jar, and the packet of papers was empty. There was a stack of plates, and a half-eaten cookie on top of them.

He paused, expression unreadable. After a few seconds, he sighed. “At least they're bonding,” he muttered, and went to go make breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I post Mel's 420 playlist? Lol. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
